Sophomoric

Today, JT starts practice for cross country season.  In a few more weeks, he’ll take a refashioned PSAT to practice for the revised SAT coming his way in less than two years.  A few days after that, he’ll start the Tenth Grade.

Gulp.

Five years ago, JT completed the Fourth Grade and prepared to head to Middle School.  On that day, I remember idly thinking that in eight years he would be leaving home for college.  Back then, eight years seemed like a lot of time.  Of course, the boy in my house in 2010 looked like this.

On that day, I could believe that there was loads of time to watch him grow up.  Now I live with this boy, who is my man-child, and increasingly seems more man than child.

Our days fly by and months are completed.  Then years are done and I find myself frantically holding on to a childhood that has been more fleeting than I could have ever imagined.  At my school, we tell children that high school is four years to learn about yourself and get ready for college.  There is time to get it right, we say.  My head embraces that idea and urges my son forward to try new things, expand his mind, and embrace his future.  I know that he must grow up and find his way in this world.

But my heart wishes to stop time from passing.  I wonder why I ever thought that eighteen years wouldn’t pass by in the blink of an eye.  I often tell new parents that the nights are long but the days and years are fast.  These days, I’m realizing just how fast the time passes.